


Girl Meets Evil

by ElizabethMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, childhood friends hizzie, florist lizzie cuz the world needs this concept, it has so much feels so get ur tissues ready, it took me days to work on this after i finished it so give it love, the hanahaki au this ship deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethMikaelson/pseuds/ElizabethMikaelson
Summary: The immovable meets the unstoppable.Lizzie meets Hope.Love meets logic, heart meets head, emotion versus reason.





	Girl Meets Evil

**Author's Note:**

> GAYS IM BACKKKKK this story came as an idea i had after staring at the wall for 20 minutes and i should thank my bff for the florist lizzie concept. this is a new style for me so i hope u enjoy it and that u have tissues close by ;)) a shoutout to my great friend xanxan for proof reading it and thanks to my mom liz for the mental support ily mom
> 
> so go read this and PLEASE tell me what u think on the comments or with kudos and bookmarks!! hope u enjoy it!
> 
> the title is based off into: boy meets evil by bts and i had to add it to the fic after i saw how good it fit and the other song used it house of cards by bts!

 

It starts like most friendship stories.

  


Or maybe it could start like most love stories.

  


It could start with a hello, with exchanged smiles and phone numbers. With a dance and a smirk, with wine and kisses under street lights.

  


It doesn’t start that way, it _can’t_ start that way.

  


There is too much history between them for their story to start like that. Too much space, too many longing stares and just too much.

  


But it starts, that’s what’s important. Maybe too late, maybe too early, maybe too fast or maybe too slow, but it starts.

  


It starts, and Lizzie can’t tell if that’s good. It starts in a way that reminds her of falling from a cliff.

  


Falling, falling, and falling with nothing to stop it.

  


The immovable meets the unstoppable.

  


Lizzie meets Hope.

  


It continues the same way. Doesn’t stop for a long time, but when it does, it starts again, in a different way, with a carnation’s bloody petals seizing her airway and blurring her vision.

  


The immovable meets the unstoppable. Love meets logic, heart meets head, emotion versus reason.

  


It starts like this: Lizzie versus love, Lizzie versus Hope, Lizzie versus what she feels for her.

  


It ends like this: Lizzie versus the flowers, Lizzie versus feelings she can’t stop. Lizzie realizing she wasn’t the unmovable object.

  


Falling in love versus staying safe. Love versus logic. Lizzie can’t tell who’s winning, not anymore. All she knows is the chipped sink filled with striped carnation petals, and the taste of death on her bloody red lips.

  


_The light of my future is dimming_

 

_Because of my childish love, I lost my way on a path of dreams_

 

\-----

  


_Lizzie met Hope when she was 6, when she would never let her father cut her unruly blonde hair and when she loved nothing more than running around the courtyard with Josie._

  


_Hope looked like a princess, and Lizzie thought that as she smiled at her, a wide gap-toothed grin. She clutched her hands together, hands dirty from falling on the ground too many times, as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, excited at meeting a new friend. “I’m Lizzie! What’s your name?”_

  


_The tall blonde man beside the princess girl laughed, and she blushed, looked up at Lizzie with ocean blue eyes._

  


_“I’m Hope.”_

  


_It felt too much like the start of something monumental, even to her 6-year-old self._ _Sometimes she wished she could go back to that day, when everything was easy and love meant sharing a hula hoop or a snack on the playground._

  
\----

 

_This love is another name for the devil_

 

_Don’t hold it’s hand_

 

\---

 

_She and Hope kissed, back when they were 14 and still learning about their desires._

  


_Lizzie complained that she didn’t know how to kiss the cute guy she had a crush on. Hope listened to her, read a book in silence._

  


_Hope listened and when Lizzie sat down beside her, she closed the book and turned to her. It’s natural how it happens, Hope’s hand on her neck and lips meeting hers._

  


_It’s innocent and cute in the way only first kisses could be. A gentle dance. Lizzie doesn’t notice the blush on Hope’s cheeks, too busy thanking her for teaching her what to do._

  


_She kisses the boy that night when it’s almost pitch-dark, his lips are soft and his hands are cool against her waist, but all she thinks about are plump lips and warm hands on her neck in the soft glow of candlelight._

  


_\---_

  


“I just can’t believe she would choose Satan! Satan, the bane of my existence, over _me_ ,” complains Lizzie, head hanging off of the edge of the bed, legs tangled with Hope’s.

  


Hope doesn’t complain when the blonde shakes the bed, too used to her antics. She hates it at times, but as of now, she is okay with it.

  


“You do realize Josie doesn’t like Penelope just because she is the bane of your existence, right?”

  


“I know! But she could have told me! Or, I don’t know, confessed that she liked Penelope and not let me catch her tongue-deep in her throat not even an hour after me and the Devil incarnate were nearly throwing hands!”

  


Hope sighs, smiles at the girl and leans closer. Her eyes are calm as they catch Lizzie’s, gaze peaceful and a hand moving to caress her cheek.

  


Moments like these make Lizzie think about going to a doctor, because heart palpitations like this surely aren’t normal.

  


“Talk it out later with Jo. I know you, Liz, and even if what you saw was a hormonal nightmare-” Lizzie laughs at that, making Hope grin, “-I know you care about her too much to give two fucks about her being with Penelope.”

  


Lizzie nods her head and gets up, maybe a little too fast, and she feels as dizzy from the blood rush as she felt when she was laying beside Hope.

  


“I have to go now, just remembered a bouquet I have to do for an elderly couple. But don’t you dare start the movie without me.”

  


“How can I watch _Crime and Law_ without my partner in crime? Be here before 7 and I’ll keep that promise,” replies Hope. Lizzie rolls her eyes, leans down, knee settled beside Hope’s thigh and hand beside her head, hovering on top of her.

  


_The venom of my ambition,_

 

_I sharpened my knife every day_

  


“See you later, Mikaelson.”

  


“Not if I see you first, Saltzman.”

  


Lizzie leaves, and she smiles to herself, heart pounding in a way she had gotten used to by now.

  


_But because of my uncontrollable greed_

 

_My knife became dull_

  


Lizzie leaves, and Hope smiles too, hands shaking and heart pounding in a way she still hadn’t gotten used to, and still didn’t understand.

  
  


\---

  


_They kissed again when they were 19. It was inevitable, too many emotions and too many intense conversations will do that to you._

  


_Lizzie stared at the stars. Hope stared at Lizzie. Why did it ever surprise them that they would kiss again?_

  


_Hope made a joke about the situation being too romantic, Lizzie complained a little about having kissed no one the past month._

  


_Lizzie looked at Hope’s lips and in the next moment, they were against hers. They kissed until they needed badly to breathe and until all they were doing was breathing each other’s air._

  


_They don’t talk about it ever again._

  


_Don’t talk about it even if late at night Hope is in Lizzie’s lap, hands deep in her hair._

  


_It stopped like everything in life does, eventually. One day Hope told her she liked the new boy in her class._

  


_Lizzie nodded, urged her to confess and the next day she found her walking with Landon._

  


_She was 19 going on 20 and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why her chest hurt at her best friend’s happiness._

  


_Couldn’t understand why making Landon a bouquet with Hope’s favorite flowers hurt more than a rose thorn’s slice._

  


_It’s poetic how white petals change to red when blood is added to them._

  


_\----_

  


“Satan,” says Lizzie, by way of greeting. Penelope raises her head, lips falling in a gentle smirk as she looks at the blonde.

  


“Future sister-in-law,” Penelope responds.

  


“First of all, please don’t say that. Secondly, I want us to get along better if you and my sister are insisting on being together. So we’re going out for lunch.”

  


Lizzie doesn’t feel like she’ll accept, but she’s proven wrong. Penelope gets up, takes her jacket from the chair and stands before Lizzie.

  


“Let’s go then. I have a date with JoJo in two hours, but I’m free now.”

  


Penelope is, in fact, better to hang out with than Lizzie had thought. They’re similar in that both of them want to always do their best, and their love for Josie is all-encompassing. They end up having a good time.

  


They see Hope as they walk back to Lizzie’s shop, hand in hand with Landon and smiling widely.

  


Lizzie freezes for a moment, Penelope notices. Notices but doesn’t say anything. But they continue walking and talking until Lizzie stops, her lungs seizing. She coughs loudly.

  


_I shouted_

  


“Hey, what’s wro-” starts Penelope, before jumping back in shock. “-are those _petals?”_

  


Lizzie can’t look away from the palm of her hand where they rest, the petals soft to the touch. She knows instantly what it means, suddenly transported back to the library, aged 17 again.

  


“ _Oh_.”

  


_But turned away from my conscience_

 

_\-----_

  


_Lizzie learned about what the Hanahaki disease was from a book in her father’s study._

  


_She was 17, sneaking to his office to steal whiskey to share with Hope, and her eyes caught the old book purely by chance on his drawer._

  


_She’d always been the curious type, so she grabbed the book and opened it, skimmed through the pages until she arrived at one that interested her._

  


_Petals rested on it, baby blue, and when Lizzie touched them, she felt how soft they were._

  


_“Hana… haki?” she sounded out in a low murmur. The name rang bells in her memory and she couldn’t quite figure out why._

  


_“A disease born from unrequited love, where flowers will sprout within the patient’s lungs. The patient will cough or throw up petals until the flowers eventually grow too large, and they suffocate.” Her eyes widened, the petals falling from her grasp as she continued reading._

  


_Her heart hammered in her chest, hands shaking and the alcohol was forgotten._

  


_“The only cure is if the object of their affections returns the feelings with genuine love, or if the diseased removes the petals with surgery. However,” Lizzie had to lean closer to read the faint writing, “the patient will never remember the person they loved.”_

  


_Terror filled her heart as she backed away, eyes wide. She closed the book, threw it in the drawer and left._

  


_It lasted up to three months._

  


_If the feelings weren’t returned, they would be suffocated by feelings until their heart and lungs failed._

  


_The petals were either the patient’s favorite flowers or flowers which held meaning to them._

  


_“Liz, hey. Wait, you’re shaking.” Hope walked up to her, concerned, when she arrived back at the bedroom. The blonde looked at the shorter girl in silence and then hugged her close._

  


_Lizzie could feel her confusion, but she didn’t pay it much mind, only burying her face in Hope’s shirt._

  


_She couldn’t let that happen to Hope. She wouldn’t let that happen._

  


_Two years later, Hope found Landon._

  


_Two years later, Lizzie still couldn’t understand why her heart broke at the sight of them._

 

 

_Two years later, Lizzie makes sure to keep the promise she had made with herself._

  


_\----_

  


“Looking sharp there,” calls Lizzie. Hope laughs, holding the punching bag steady as Lizzie walks over to her.

  


“And not for the first time, you aren’t sharp on time.” Lizzie rolls her eyes, throws Hope her towel and plays with her phone, trying to find the right song.

  


Hope looks at her with a smile as she wipes the sweat off of her forehead, and Lizzie smiles back. The simple gesture causes a wave of coughing, and she stares for a moment at the petals in her hand. They’re small and not even close to being ripe, like they’ve come from just-budding flowers.

  


_I feel the sharp reality more every day_

 

_There’s red blood by being torn apart by it every day_

  


“Are you sick?” At Hope’s voice, Lizzie snaps her fist closed, stealthily stuffing the petals in her pocket.

  


“Of course I’m not. Just on dead flower duty again at the shop.”

  


“As long as you’re okay.” Hope holds out a hand. “Now, let’s practice the dance.”

  


Penelope’s birthday was near, and everyone had gone the extra mile for the girl. They weren’t surprised she had chosen a theme party, and who better to ask for help to dance than Hope? The two of them stand in the ready position and begin to spin.

  


_Even if I knew already_

_I can’t stop_

_No way no way no way_

_As time passes_

_It just becomes more ruined_

_No way it’s collapsing again_

  


“Couldn’t you practice with mop head?” asks Lizzie.

  


Hope doesn’t reply. Lizzie dips her and their eyes meet. Its contact so intense it makes Lizzie shiver.

  


“He isn’t very good at dancing.” Lizzie nods her head, raises Hope and smiles when the girl steadies herself with a hand on her shoulder.

  


_A house made of cards, and us, inside_

_Even though the end is visible_

_Even if it’s going to collapse soon_

  


“There is something else going on too, isn’t there?” notices Lizzie. She isn’t stupid, she knows her best friend like she knows the palm of her hand. Almost too well.

  


Lizzie spins her around, pulls her back in and it’s too much of a coincidence how this dance parallels Hope and Lizzie’s years-long dance.

  


How she can’t help but always pull her in.

  


_A house made of cards, we’re like idiots_

_Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more_

  


“He’s... distancing himself from me,” confesses Hope, voice soft. Lizzie pulls her closer, tightens the hold on her hand and Hope raises her head to look her in the eyes. Lizzie holds back a cough. She feels sick from the petals sticking in the back of her throat, just like her feelings for Hope stick in her mind.

  


Feelings she won’t say, feelings she will keep inside until the day she dies.

  


“Do you want me to send Josie after him? There is a reason his nickname has been Phoenix since we met him back in college,” teases Lizzie. “He’ll be fine after a little bit of roasting.”

  


Hope laughs, eyes shining as she looks at Lizzie.

  


_As if there’s no such thing as tomorrow_

_As if there’s no such thing as a “next time”_

  


Lizzie loves it, loves how _right_ Hope feels in her arms. And yet, _yet,_ she knows she can’t ever have anything more than this.

  


_Right now, in front of my eyes, everything without you_

_Is a terrible pitch-black darkness_

  


She spins her away, their fingers touching and arms open as they stand side by side for a split second. Hope smirks and Lizzie feels her heart throb. She pulls her in again, hands creeping to rest in her shoulder and hip and they’re panting lightly, staring at each other.

  


“He can have his space, we’ll talk it out with time. People in love do that, don’t they?”

  


_Even if I knew already_

_I can’t stop_

_No way no way no way_

_As time passes_

_It just becomes more ruined_

_No way it’s collapsing again_

  


Lizzie’s smile falls, and suddenly the flowers in her throat give a violent pulse and they become too much, everything becomes too much so she drops her hands, steps away, and moves to drink from her water bottle.

  


She swallows the petals down the same way she swallows the bitter truth: with a gag and a grimace. Hope doesn’t love her, all Hope sees in her is a best friend and there’s no way _in hell_ she will let Hope find out about what it’s doing to Lizzie.

  


“Yeah,” confirms Lizzie, turning to smile at Hope. It feels less painful, or maybe she’s gotten too used to the pain.

  


“People in love figure things out with time.”

  


_A house made of cards, and us, inside_

_Even though the end is visible_

_Even if it’s going to collapse soon_

_A house made of cards, we’re like idiots_

_Even if it’s a vain dream_

  


\-----------

  


_My breath is getting shorter_

 

_I close my eyes every night from this twisted reality_

 

_The music box of tragedy echoes_

  


That is the thing about pain, Lizzie soon discovers.

  


It’s terribly present at first, plays with your heartstrings like guitar chords, makes your throat ache and pulse so you want to tear it apart with your bare hands.

  


But in the end, you get used to it. Just as Lizzie had.

  


She had gotten used to seeing her hands bloody after coughing, used to having Penelope escort her away every time she would start a fit so bad she couldn’t stop.

  


She found out Penelope was a greater friend than she had first thought. She is Lizzie’s support in ways Hope can’t be, in ways that she gathers the bloody petals and throws them away. In a way where she gives her water to drink and wipes her bloody lips with a handkerchief.

  


Lizzie is now surer than ever that she’s a masochist, that perhaps she enjoys feeling her chest tighten with blooms whenever she and Hope hang out.

  


As it is right now. Lizzie works on fixing and placing the fresh flowers in their places, dragging her finger through the leaves as she checked them.

  


_Basils, I hate you._

  


_Camellia, my destiny is in your hands._

  


_White carnations, my heart breaks for you._

  


Lizzie coughs, feels her throat scratched and breathes deeply. Her ocean eyes glance at the bloody petals, striped carnation, the red of the blood splotching dark the white of the flower. She throws them in the trash bag she holds in her hand, doesn’t pay it much attention but remembers their meaning quite well.

  


_Striped carnation, I cannot be with you._

  


“Whoa, what did those poor flowers do to you to deserve that glare?”

  


Hope looks at her with a small smile, throws a tennis ball in the air and catches it. Lizzie doesn’t mind the silence, continues with her work and feels her throat hurt as she gulps the petals down.

  


It has been days, _weeks,_ ever since she’s enjoyed food or drinks. Weeks of spending every second she could with Hope before the end came, gulping back petals and then throwing up until she had no energy left.

  


“I broke up with Landon. He told me he liked Jed.” Lizzie stops, looks at Hope with confusion.

  


Huh, that was surprising. The pansies did fit though, _think of me._ Of course, Hope would be thinking about her boyfriend. _Ex-_ boyfriend.

  


“Are you… okay?”

  


Hope knows what Lizzie is _really_ asking her. Knows it too well, remembers her own father spitting blue flowers and how he left her one week before he died, the petals eventually choking him.

  


Hope met Landon when they were 19. They were 22 now. A love of this many years would have its effect on her.

  


“I am, actually. We broke up on friendly terms, but…” Hope trails off, looks away and Lizzie can do nothing but walk over to her and lean on the counter next to her, forearms touching.

  


Hope sighs and lays her head on Lizzie’s shoulder. She smells like peppermint and makes Lizzie feel safe and warm, just like the herb’s meaning, _warmth of feeling._

  


“But you still feel as if a part of you left with the garden gnome?” finishes Lizzie. Hope giggles and Lizzie feels her throat tighten. She leans to take a sip of her water bottle, drinking until the petals aren’t nearly spilling from her lips.

  


“I guess so.”

  


The conversation stops there. Lizzie knows Hope too well, so she leaves her to her thoughts.

  


“Do you wanna go to The Grill? My treat,” says Hope. Lizzie looks at her for a moment, takes in her wide smile and glinting eyes and nods her head, resigned.

  


Why not enjoy her time? She didn’t have much left anyway.

  


Lizzie hangs out with Hope. Eats beside her and laughs freely. If there is something she does best, it’s being happy with Hope, _because_ of Hope.

  


“Liz, look at that clown,” says Hope. She points to the door and they watch as Jed bonks his head against the door accidentally, distracted by seeing Landon.

  


_But in order to be free from this crime_

  


Lizzie laughs, laughs until her lungs ache from the lack of air, from happiness and not petals. Laughs because she loves Hope’s sense of humor, she loves her presence, she loves Hope-

  


But that’s just it. Lizzie _loves_ Hope. And Hope makes her happy, makes her feel alive and comfortable. She talks with Hope and she enjoys herself, enjoys seeing Hope smile and enjoys how Hope buys her favorite ice cream.

  


Lizzie walks Hope home, leaves with a kiss on her cheek and with petals spilling from her lips the moment Hope closes her door.

  


She loves Hope. Can’t breathe without her.

  


_It’s impossible to forget and give up_

 

_Because those lips were too sweet_

  


Yeah, she agrees with that. Can’t breathe when the shed petals are spilling from her lips, when her white sink is tainted and splattered red by blood and carnations.

  


Lizzie chokes on petals until she feels numb, until she stops choking and starts crying.

  


Death, the looming creature, was terrifying, and throwing up pieces of her lungs, pieces of herself, from a love she could never have was torture.

  


But staying away from Hope was worse.

  


\----

 

It’s Monday when her secret comes out.

  


It’s been weeks, and her condition has gotten worse. Lizzie can’t feel her throat anymore, can’t look at Hope and not cough her eyeballs out.

  


Hope notices, notices the distance, the fact Penelope is closer with Lizzie. She notices but says nothing, just watches sadly how her friend runs away from her.

  


Lizzie sits on the rooftop. Her eyes take in the view, how beautiful everything looks and how she had spent all her years not appreciating it enough.

  


“Satan, you’re back,” remarks Lizzie as Penelope plops herself down beside her, rolling a joint.

  


Penelope lights it and holds it to her lips. She blows out a cloud of smoke, eyes settling upon Lizzie. “And you’re looking worse than yesterday.”

  


Lizzie rolls her eyes, a smile on her face. “You know what they say, ‘show me your friends and I’ll show you your future’. Not my fault you’re the only one I can hang out with.”

  


Penelope sighs, gives her the joint and flinches, startled when Lizzie coughs. Petals fall into her hand, almost halfway to maturity, and Penelope doesn’t say anything as she gives her the bottle of water.

  


“Josie hates having her lights on when she sleeps.”

  


“What?”

  


“If you make her anything for breakfast besides waffles, you might as well just pack your bags and leave. When she’s on her period she just needs to be cuddled and given lots and lots of warm food to eat, and she’d never admit it, but she loves it when people play with her hair-”

  


“Hold up, Saltzman. Why are you telling me all these facts about my own girlfriend?”

  


Lizzie sighs, throat scratchy, and closes her eyes. The sun is warm, makes her chest feel lighter and looser. It’s a shame she didn’t enjoy it more when she didn’t have a time bomb ticking in her ear.

  


“We both know how this will end for me, Penelope.”

  


_I threw my future away because_

 

_I was drunk on loving_

  


Penelope can’t find it in herself to fight her, because Lizzie looks at her in a way that it gives her _chills._ Lizzie looks at her as if she had already died, as if her body dying from the petals would just be the final step.

  


“What will end? What do you mean?”

  


Lizzie freezes, the joint falling from her fingers as she turns to Josie. Sweet Josie, the one who had been with Lizzie through everything, the best twin she could have ever asked for.

  


_When I woke up_

 

_I was surrounded by land mines_

 

“Jojo, hey! And nothing! I was talking with Liz about this bet we have going on-” Penelope stutters, but it’s to no avail. As if God hated her, as if He had some kind of fucked-up personal vendetta against her, Lizzie chokes, falls to her knees, and vomits until the floor in front of her is filled with bloody carnation petals.

  


Lizzie can’t pinpoint what hits her deepest and hurts her more; her mouth filled with blood and petals, Penelope’s gasp as she holds Lizzie, or Josie’s terror-filled eyes, who looks as if Lizzie was dying before her.

  


_Surrounded by people’s stares_

 

_That can’t be touched_

  


Lizzie had to laugh at the irony.

  


\-----

  


_Lizzie held being the reason for many of Hope’s first times under her belt._

  


_First time Hope laughed after her father and mother died._

  


_First time Hope had kissed someone._

  


_First time Hope had helped open a florist shop._

  


_First time Hope had gone to a strip club._

  


_First time Hope had found a boy to crush on._

  


_First time Hope had slept with someone._

  


_Lizzie remembered that one last one all too well._

  


_She remembered Hope’s wide eyes and nervous smile as she said she had never done it before. How she wanted her first time to be with someone special, with whom she wouldn’t regret it. How she had explained Lizzie was the only person she thought would always be by her side. Lizzie didn’t know what touched her more, the fact Hope saw her far into her future or the fact Hope wanted to sleep with her._

  


_It was Lizzie’s first day working at her shop when Hope asked that. They spent the day chatting and Hope helped her with customers at times, smiling and helping everyone. Their eyes met and Lizzie’s smile softened. She put two extra roses in everyone’s bouquets that day._

  


_After closing, they both laid on the linoleum floor of the flower shop on their backs. Flowers surround them, clippings on the ground, in the vases, everywhere. It smelled good, not suffocatingly good because of the open window, but the scent made everything sweeter._

  


_Hope turned to her as they laid on the blanket, eyes dark and smile nervous. She leaned in, caught Lizzie’s lips and rolled on top of her. Lizzie kissed her in a way that made Hope weak. They kissed and it felt as if they were meant to, as if it were normal for two best friends to do._

  


_Lizzie remembered it too well, mostly small details which went through her mind even to this day._

  


_Hope asking her to turn the lights off._

  


_The moonlight streaming through the open window._

  


_The cool wind that made Hope’s bare skin be covered with goosebumps._

  


_The striped carnation’s petals falling beside them from the blanket moving and shaking the vase they were in._

  


_There are also other details, details Lizzie lets herself dwell upon only when she is asleep and dreaming._

  


_Hope’s skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon it._

  


_Hope’s full breasts against her hands, nipples hard against Lizzie’s palm._

  


_Hope’s moan as Lizzie entered her with her fingers._

  


_Hope’s soft lips and how they stole Lizzie’s breath._

  


_Hope’s addicting taste when Lizzie went down on her._

  


_They laid in silence after they finished. Lizzie couldn’t look at her, whispering something about resting for a while._

  


_Hope cuddled her from behind, skin warm and soft and comforting. Soft lips kissed the nape of her neck, and Lizzie’s hand drifts to her heart, gripping the skin tightly. She stopped when Hope’s hand met hers, lacing their fingers and their feelings together._

  


_Her heartbeat slowed under their hands. Lizzie was surprised she even had the ability to calm down anymore._

  


_Lizzie’s eyes didn’t leave the moon._

  


_Hope’s body didn’t leave hers._

  


_\-----_

  


_I shout for a miracle in this reality_

  


It’s ironic.

  


Lizzie has loved flowers her whole life, has worked hard and opened a florist shop for herself. Has made countless flower arrangements and has helped people confessing their feelings with flowers, helped with mending relationships and celebrating anniversaries. New beginnings and endings.

  


She lives for flowers, for their meanings. She lives for how beautiful they are and how they make her feel.

  


She lives for flowers and is dying from them. She lives for Hope and is dying because of her.

  


Vomiting, choking on her own disgusting feelings.

  


Hope doesn’t notice when she coughs and petals fall from her lips. Lizzie thinks it's helpful she has her job to use as a cover for the clippings in her hands and pockets.

  


She hangs out more at the shop, makes Hope come there and hides her coughs with allergies. Hope worries over her, wipes her blood away, the blood that Lizzie blames on the roses’ thorns cutting her.

  


Lizzie knows she is getting worse. The dizziness is rarely gone, the headache, too, and her throat hurts so much she can’t even find it in herself to eat more than once a day.

  


“Liz?”

  


“Yeah?”

  


Hope holds nine roses before her, smile wide as she places them on the counter.

  


_It was crazy good_

  


“If you held nine roses in front of a mirror, you would be looking at the ten most beautiful things in the world,” says Hope, her tone light and teasing.

  


Lizzie feels her heart skip a beat, feels her throat constrict and she grips the scissors in her hands, feels their edge against her palm.

  


“You are such a dork,” she replies with a tight smile.

  


_I was an idiot addicted to the sweetness_

  


She could be dying, and when she coughs blood drips onto her hand with the clumps of petals Hope misses, but that doesn’t mean she won’t enjoy Hope’s cheesy comments. Hope _was_ her closest friend, after all.

  


But she needs air, especially when the petals become too hard to swallow down.

  


“I’m going to the back to see if Josie needs help.” Hope nods, leans her head on the cool glass counter as she watches Lizzie leave.

  


Josie doesn’t talk to her when she walks in. Lizzie could hear her crying every night when they would share a room, could see how she would linger in the doorway when she would think Lizzie was asleep.

  


“Are you doing better?”

  


Josie turns then, gets up when she sees Lizzie leaning against the table. Her eyes are shut tight, hands white from their death grip on the wood.

  


“Liz?” murmurs Josie, eyes snapping between Lizzie and the door where Hope could walk in any moment.

  


Lizzie doesn’t reply, only holds her breath until she gasps loudly, coughing hard enough that she falls on her knees. She hacks them up, hoping she can clear her airway long enough to spend the rest of the day with Hope. Too bad it’s getting worse, and more petals and more blood than Lizzie would have ever thought possible escape her lips, pooling on the ground and splattering the front of her pristine white uniform.

 

 

It’s almost poetic how Hope finds them.

  


Lizzie, shirt with specks of blood on it, petals stuck on her lips and to her hands, too bloody to shake off. Lizzie, with her blue eyes looking up at Hope, shocked, before they fall shut as she doubled over coughing again.

  


_Yeah, an idiot_

  


Josie, brown eyes wide and face trying and failing to hide her pain as she holds her sister, barking at Hope to get the water bottle and bring it to her.

  


“What-”

  


“Hey, Hope,” murmurs Lizzie with a dazed smile before she falls against Josie’s chest, coating her shirt with red and petals scattering on their laps.

  


_I didn’t want to let go of the devil’s hand_

  


Hope can do nothing but freeze, eyes stuck on Lizzie’s bloody hands and the flowers surrounding them.

  


She has never hated striped carnations more than in those moments.

  


\---

  


“You should have fucking told me, Josie!”

  


“Lizzie didn’t want me to and she’s my sister!-”

  


“And I’m her closest friend!” screams Hope. There are tears in her eyes and Penelope can only squeeze Josie’s hand, knowing how hard it is for her to stay strong.

  


“Hope, Jo is her _sister._ Do you really think she has it easy?”

  


Hope sighs, paces up and down the room and turns to look at the bedroom. Lizzie lays there peacefully, fast asleep, as if she wasn’t dying.

  


As if she wasn’t breaking the promise she had made to Hope years ago.

  


_“I promise I’ll always be here for you,” said Lizzie._

  


_Hope raised her head from her knees to look at the young blonde, ocean eyes filled with tears and pain._

  


_“I can’t risk that, Lizzie. What if what happens to my father happens to you? I can’t let that happen, I can’t, I-”_

  


_She sobbed harder when Lizzie hugged her close, tried to remember her heartbeat as Lizzie said something softly under her breath._

  


_“We are together ‘till the bitter end, okay? Always and forever, Hope.”_

  


“Hope?”

  


She is snapped out of her memories by Lizzie’s weak voice. The blonde smiles at her, her head pounding. Hope is by her side in a flash.

  


“God, Liz. You scared me so much,” says Hope, holds her hands between hers and kisses them.

  


_Too bad_

 

_But it’s too sweet_

  


Lizzie feels her chest tighten, coughs and Penelope and Josie are by her side again. Hope feels useless, and Lizzie sees that. She wants to erase that fear from her face, can’t bear to see the look in Hope’s eyes when she coughs blood and petals.

  


“I’m cold.”

  


Lizzie meets Hope’s eyes, and the girl nods her head before leaving, closing the door behind her.

  


It’s easier to tell Penelope goodbye. Not easy, but easier.

 

 

She hugs Lizzie and smiles at her and rubs a comforting hand over her back, as she has so many times in the last few months. She promises to take care of Josie, and Hope always, and Lizzie believes her and takes some small comfort in it.

  


Josie weeps and Lizzie holds her sister, as well as she can, as long as she can. Presses one last kiss to Josie’s forehead as Penelope leads her out, whispers softly that they should give them a moment.

  


And Hope comes back inside. As Penelope and Josie walk away, Hope feels her chest tighten at their red eyes and how Lizzie looks at her as she sits up.

  


_It’s too sweet_

  


Hope’s fingers are firm as they clasp around Lizzie’s wrist, as she helps her up and leads her outside.

  


Lizzie follows her. Would follow her everywhere, anywhere. Until the very end.

  


_It’s too sweet_

  


Outside, there is a bonfire, crackling and flickering with the wind.

  


“I - my family-” Hope has to stop to compose herself. “I didn’t want you to be cold,” she finally says. Lizzie nods her head gratefully, sits on the blanket placed there and looks out across the lake.

  


“It reminds me of our first camping trip.” Hope finds it within herself to laugh at the memories of the two of them trying to set up a fire, and Lizzie’s giddy smile when she finally managed to do it.

  


“You were so damn happy to finally have a camping night alone,” replies Hope. Lizzie nods her head, coughs and Hope wraps her left arm around her waist.

  


The tears start falling when her right hand moves to Lizzie's neck, fingers caressing the skin softly and shaking when they feel the slowing heartbeat.

  


“I’m always happy when I’m with you, Hope.” Hope’s heartbeat quickens, she holds Lizzie closer and presses her lips against the crown of her head.

  


Lizzie can feel it slowly coming, and she’s in the eye of the hurricane, her second wind, the peace one has before their last breath.

  


“Take care of the shop for me, won’t you?” murmurs Lizzie. Hope can’t speak, only nods her head and only holds her, scared to see Lizzie’s deep blue eyes and the life draining from them.

  


“Until the bitter end, huh?”

  


Lizzie smiles, raises her head weakly and Hope gasps when she sees the flowers seeping from her lips. And she wipes them away with her thumb, shakes her head and cries, leans her forehead against Lizzie’s.

  


“Please don’t leave me.”

  


“Hope, say it back. One time, before I go.”

 

 

“Until the bitter end. I love you, Lizzie Saltzman,” whispers Hope. Lizzie’s eyes widen and they tear up, petals choking her. “I know that now. I think part of me has always known.”

 

 

Hope doesn’t move. Feels the petals on her fingers as she holds Lizzie’s face in her hands. She meets Lizzie’s eyes, pain clear in them.

  


It’s pathetic how she is dying, choking on her own breath and yet she feels the most pain by Hope’s tears.

  


“It’s okay, Hope. It’s not your fault, you can let me go. I love you too.” Hope sobs harder, shakes harder.

  


Lizzie is glad she has enough time to tell her not to blame herself, knows Hope probably will after Josie explains why Lizzie is like she is right now.

  


She smiles at her. Her hands holding onto Hope become slowly weaker, and she moves her head to rest on Hope’s chest, nose tickling her neck.

  


“Don’t blame yourself. You always made me so happy,” murmurs Lizzie. Hope cries as she holds her closer, her hand shaking against her skin.

  


Lizzie can feel herself slowly lose consciousness, can feel the petals slowly drowning her from the inside out, making it harder for her heart to beat.

  


“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,”_ sings Lizzie in a low, raspy voice, coughing again and breathing faintly against Hope’s neck.

  


Hope sobs, digs her hand in Lizzie’s shirt and holds the girl closer. This situation is too familiar, this time Hope holding Lizzie.

  


The first time Lizzie found Hope in her sadness over her parents' death.

  


This last time Hope lost Lizzie.

  


“ _You make me happy when skies are grey.”_

  


Her thoughts are scattered, but Lizzie remembers a crying Hope, small and fragile and with shadows in her eyes. She remembers Hope’s smile when they baked together, remembers how she laughed when Josie cooked them dinner one day and managed to burn the packaged mac and cheese.

  


_Too bad, but it’s too sweet_

  


“ _You’ll never know, dear,”_ Lizzie wheezes. Hope shakes her head in stubborn denial when she feels the petals flutter down onto her shirt, “ _how much I love you.”_

  


And she remembers. Hope’s smile when Lizzie bought her favorite chocolate. Hope and Josie taking care of her when she was sick. Hope’s lips against hers.

  


The memories feel hazy. Hope feels too far away.

  


_It’s too sweet_

  


“ _Please,”_ sobs out Hope, finishing what Lizzie started, her whole body shaking as she pulls Lizzie closer, as she feels Lizzie’s last breaths ghost against her skin, _“don’t take my sunshine away.”_

  


Hope freezes when she doesn’t feel Lizzie breathing against her neck anymore, when she doesn’t feel a heartbeat under her fingers, and she finally understands.

  


_It’s too evil_

  


It starts with Hope and Lizzie.

  


It starts on a beautiful May morning, with a lively Lizzie, front teeth missing and eyes glinting and chest heaving from running and with a nervously smiling Hope.

  


It ends with Hope and Lizzie. The end comes back to the beginning. It’s full circle, but she’s never known anything more incomplete.

  


It ends on a beautiful May night, with a lifeless Lizzie, lips red with blood and chest filled with flowers, and with a crying, broken Hope.

  


_Yeah, it’s too evil._

  


\----

  


She nearly joins Lizzie.

  


Correction, she stops giving two shits about her health and life and she ends up in the hospital after fainting.

  


It’s not her fault, she couldn’t bear leaving the shop, felt as if she was betraying Lizzie by stopping working and caring for it.

  


And the walls held too many memories, the flowers’ scents, once welcome, now felt as if they were choking the oxygen out of Hope's lungs.

  


She ends up in the hospital. Wakes up tired and out of it and sees Josie sitting on the chair beside the bed. Sees Penelope's jacket hanging on her thin shoulders, figures the girl went to buy something to drink.

  


She’s forgotten about it. Has forgotten how after her parents died, Lizzie and Josie became her emergency contact. Has forgotten that after what happened (she still can't bear to say it aloud) Josie became her only contact.

  


Forgot that Lizzie wasn't the only Saltzman she had years of friendship with. Forgot that Josie was also her best friend, the only person who would make her favorite chocolate cake when she would be sad.

  


"Hi there, sleepyhead," murmurs Josie. She gets up, sits beside Hope and takes her hand in hers.

  


Hope can't face her. It had been a year since they had even been in the same room. Josie hadn't talked to her after the funeral, and Hope kept up with her comings and goings through Penelope.

  


After a while, she let Penelope go. She knew how it was hurting the girl to stand as a messenger between her girlfriend and her best friend, who in a way was the reason her other best friend died.

  


But Josie was here now, and she wasn't looking at Hope like Hope expected her to. She wasn't looking at Hope like it was sad the flowers in the shop hadn't choked her, like it was a shame Lizzie's ghost hadn't tormented her enough to end it fair and square and not _fail_ like this.

  


"Jo, I-"

  


"Rest, Hope. We can talk later, okay?"  

  


Hope tears up when Josie caresses her cheek, brown eyes filled with tears.

  


She forgets that Josie had lost enough family, that she considered Hope practically all the family she had left.

  


Hope closes her eyes, but the tears still fall and Josie's hand feels too familiar in her own. She doesn't know what makes her this emotional, perhaps the painkillers, perhaps Josie's warmth as she laid beside her and took Hope in her arms.

  


That's how Penelope finds them. Hope crying and gripping Josie's shirt, only saying _I'm sorry,_ over and over. Josie holds her the entire time, eyes shut tightly and crying.

  


Penelope sits on the chair and waits until Hope falls asleep. She holds a cup of coffee and smiles when Josie sits upright on the bed, Hope laying on the other side against the pillows.

  


"I can't lose her, Penelope. She’s the last family I have beside Dad. And..."

  


Penelope nods, leans forward to kiss her hand, and understands, even with the thought hanging unfinished.

  


Knows that in a way, Hope was all Josie had left of Lizzie.

  


That Lizzie's spirit lived on with Hope.

  


They don't talk more than that, let the silence fill the air. Josie thinks it's unfair how she got to have the best love she could ask for while her sister died without experiencing it.

  


She lies down and falls asleep after that, one hand holding Hope against her chest and the other laced through Penelope’s. Penelope watches over the girls like a hawk. She feels better as she does.

  


Lizzie wasn't there, but in a way, her spirit would always remain between the three of them.

  


\----

  


“It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” Hope smiles gently as she looks at the lake, sitting on the ground beside a gravestone.

  


The sun shines, makes her feel calm and more peaceful than she had in a while.

  


“You would definitely enjoy this view, Liz. I can just imagine you complaining about not having the right swimsuit to get a good tan and bless the gods above with your body.”

  


She doesn’t get an answer. Hope is okay with that.

  


“It’s been four years since you died.” The wind picks up as if egging her on, and it makes Hope lean against the stone more and relax.

  


“I’ve been taking care of the shop. More and more people are coming each day, you would be so proud of how everything’s growing. Remember little Pedro?” Hope laughs a little as she looks at the bouquet in her hands, caresses the petals of the zinnia, heliotrope and rosemary flowers Pedro had chosen for the first arrangement.

  


Hope lists their meaning in her head, eyes staring back at the lake.

  


_I mourn your absence, my devoted affection is all yours, remembrance._

  


“I decided to hire him. He’s such a great help there, he knows his way around so well already. I remember when you used to teach him about the meanings of flowers and how you would always give him daisies. Innocence, right? It fit him.”

  


Time passes, and the sun starts falling to the horizon as Hope continues talking to the air.

  


“I hope, in another universe, we’ll have the chance to be together. That I’ll realize my feelings for you sooner.”

  


Hope sighs, gets up and wipes her tears away as she runs a hand along the top of the gravestone.

  


“It started with us, and it will end with us. Always and forever, Liz.”  

  


She leans down, leaves a light kiss on the smooth marble and takes one last look over the lake before turning and leaving.

  


Hope doesn’t mind that the wind feels as if it's whispering to her, as if in a way Lizzie was there to hear her. Hope only smiles and pulls Lizzie’s jacket tighter around herself, walks towards their house in silence.

  


\----

  


In another universe, it starts like most friendship stories.

  


Or maybe it starts like most love stories.

  


It starts with a hello, with exchanged smiles and phone numbers. With a dance and a smirk, with wine and kisses under street lights.

  


In this universe it doesn’t start that way, it _can’t_ start that way.

  


There is, once again, too much history between them. Rumors being spread like the fire that burns more than just a room.

  


But it starts, that’s what’s important. Maybe too late, maybe too early, maybe too fast or maybe too slow, but it starts.

  


It starts, and Lizzie can’t tell if that’s good. It starts in a way it reminds her of falling from a cliff.

  


Falling, falling and falling with nothing to stop it.

  


The immovable meets the unstoppable.

  


Lizzie meets Hope.

  


It continues the same way, without stopping. Doesn’t stop until it starts again, with Hope’s blue eyes meeting hers and with the truth being shared between them.

  


The immovable meets the unstoppable. Love meets logic, heart meets head, emotion versus reason.

  


Lizzie versus love, Lizzie versus Hope, Lizzie versus what she feels for her.

  


It ends like this.

  


Lizzie and Hope, side by side, sharing magic like they share oxygen, hands clasped and fingers lacing.

  


Lizzie with a burning sensation in her throat as she tells Hope she will be with her until the bitter end. Lizzie holding Hope close, becoming each others’ anchors.

  


(It feels too familiar, as if they had done it before.

  


Both pay it no mind.)

  


This time, it doesn’t end in heartbreak.

  


This time, Lizzie is the one to lose Hope. But she is also the one to find her, to hold her close and feel Hope’s heartbeat against her skin.

  


_It started with us and it will end with us, Hope. Always and forever, isn’t that right?_

  


This time, their lips meet and their love isn’t shared too late. This time, both look at the lake and enjoy the sun and the view.

  


This time, unlike the others, and somehow just like the others, like _always,_ it ends in the beginning.

  


Hope meets Lizzie. Lizzie falls in love and Hope does the same.

  


_Always and forever._

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE TELL ME MORE ON MY TWITTER @thehopesaltzman


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